Stalked
by TheCleverDame
Summary: Sam X Reader - Imagine you're dating Sam and he finds out someone has been stalking you.
1. Chapter 1

You've been dating Sam for three months.

There's a blond, twenty-something guy who lives in your apartment building that's always shown you a little extra attention. His name is Mark, he's perfectly nice, in a "frat brother" sort of way – not your type. He bought you flowers right after you moved in, and a couple weeks ago he _finally_ worked up the nerve to ask you out.

You politely declined. Didn't mention anything about Sam or seeing someone else, you just told him you weren't interested and moved on.

You didn't give it a second thought until earlier in the week when he started showing up places. He was standing next to your car as you were leaving for work. He happened to be at the small, overpriced grocery store close to your office.

When you hear the knock at your door, you think its Sam. You think he's early. You throw the door open with a smile start "Hey, I just called in the pizza, I" before you realize it's not Sam.

It's Mark.

You take this opportunity to be upfront and tell him you're dating someone. Someone who's on their way over.

Mark looks you up and down with stiff jaw and replies "I haven't even seen this mystery boyfriend before."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you." You try to shut the door but Mark slides his foot between the door and frame _. Jesus Christ, he might actually try to hurt me,_ you think.

You take a quick breath and square your shoulders. In a firm voice you instruct Mark to "Take your foot out of my fucking doorway, before I break it."

"Bitch" he mutters, slams his fist into the door frame and backs away.

It's only after you close the door that you realize your hands are shaking so bad it takes two tries to throw the deadbolt into place.

It all happens so fast you don't have a chance to process it.

Sam's late, when he finally gets there you've calmed down, but not yet decided how to handle this. Do you tell him? It seems like it could make the situation worse, you decide to wait and see how you feel later in the evening.

Sam hugs you, kisses you deep and then soft. He cups your face with both, giant hands and tells you he's missed you. Sam's big and tall and smells so God damn good that you forgot all about Mark.

Until the pizza guy knocks at the door and you _scream_.

You scream loud enough to wake the dead.

Sam jumps and looks at you, first with amusement and then with concern when he sees your face.

 _Shit._

He pays the pizza guy and you both sit down at your awkwardly small Ikea dining table.

"What was that?" He asks.

"Well I just, it startled me…"you're a terrible liar and you realize that your eyes are tearing up.

"What's going on? What wrong?" He scoots his chair next to yours, reaching for your hands. You feel him squeeze your fingers in his and for some reason that makes you cry even harder.

"There's this guy," you look up at Sam who's already locked his jaw. Wherever this is going, he already doesn't like it.

Telling him is hard for you because you're independent to your very core. You've always handled things on your own, never needed a man to sort out your problems. You do just fine with humor, deflection and charm 99% of the time.

But this feels different. This scares you. Mark scares you…so you tell Sam everything.

You tell him about the flowers and how Mark was at the bank last week, the grocery store and then you tell him about what happened before he got there.

By the time you're done he's not holding your hands anymore. He's sitting back in his chair, his face is red, his fists are clenched and he looks like steam might blow out of ears.

"Sam?"

"Hold on," he ticks his jaw and closes his eyes, only for a second "I need to think."

"OK," you concede. This Sam is a frightening version of him you knew was in there, but hadn't actually witnessed before.

"What apartment does he live in?" Sam booms, standing up and moving toward the door.

"Umm, Sam, I think we should talk about this-"

"Y/N," he stalks toward you, grabbing your shoulders. His face is inches from your own and he's not really asking as much as demanding. "Tell me."

You shake your head no. Half of you thinks that Sam might kill him. For all you know Mark has a gun and Sam showing up and it's guaranteed to end badly.

"This isn't optional. Tell me now." You regret ever bringing it up. "Y/N, I swear I will knock on every door, in every building, until I find out where-"

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

You both freeze.

There are three knocks on the door and you both hear Mark yell, "Come on, I know you're home. Your car is still here!"

Sam moves toward the door.

"Fuck," you whisper.


	2. Chapter 2

Language, mentions of sex, violence, assault and attempted sexual assault. There could be **triggers in here for some people** , so please be warned.

* * *

Sam glides towards the door and whips it open without a moment of hesitation. He stands tall, his large frame blocking the entire doorway with his body.

"You really picked the wrong person to fuck with," Sam booms.

You move to the side and watch as Mark stops mid-sentence. His eyes go wide, visibly surprised to see Sam standing there. He probably thought you were making up a story just to get him to leave.

"Hey man," Mark takes a step back. His faces falls and he holds his hands palm up toward Sam as a move of compliance. "I didn't know…my bad."

You watch as Sam clenches the fist at his side. "Well, now you do. I don't want you to so much as think about Y/N from this moment forward. You got that?"

"You got it." Mark scampers back down the hallway and Sam watches him go. Mark gives up with less of a fight than you expected and it leaves you with a feeling of uneasiness.

When Sam turns to look at you his eyes look wild, you've never seen him this angry before. "You see him again, the first thing you do is call me."

"Sam-" You don't know what to say and he doesn't give you the chance to think.

"I'm serious" he says, now looming over you, two hands gripping your shoulders. "No one should ever make you feel like you're not safe. Especially an asshole like that."

"I will" You nod. "I'll call you if he comes back. I promise."

That night Sam makes slow, deliberate love to you up against the wall of your shower before spreading you open on your clean sheets and fucking you until you can't see straight.

When you wake up in the morning the sore parts of your body are a pleasant reminder of how good Sam can make you feel.

It's enough to make you completely forget about Mark for the time being.

–Six Weeks Later–

It's close to midnight when you finally get home. It's Friday and it's been a long, never-ending day of staff meetings, then errands followed by cardio at the gym. You're absolutely exhausted. All you want to do is take a bath and crawl into bed.

Sam's on his way into town from somewhere out east, he said he'll try to be back tonight, but it's more likely he won't show until the early hours of the morning. You don't hold your breath anymore. It's been over a week since you saw him last and while you're excited to see him, right now sleep is the more appealing option.

You can't plan your nights around his schedule because he comes and goes at all hours. It's the nature of what he does and it's not good or bad, it's just reality. You have to do your own thing and look forward to the feeling of him crawling into your bed at 4AM.

You don't notice Mark until you're halfway to your building, when you spot him he's already walking toward you.

Mark calls out your name and you involuntarily stop dead in your tracks. Every muscle in your body tenses up. You haven't heard a peep out of him since the Sam incident and you've let your guard down. Now he magically appears in your dark, underlit parking lot.

"Hey, Mark," you try to sound casual, pulling your gym bag further over your shoulder. You throw him a tight smile and pick up the pace, power walking toward your door.

"Hey," he scurries in front of you, blocking your path. You stop and try to make yourself look confident, as much as you can in yoga pants and flip flops. A familiar feeling of dread hits you square in stomach, but you're damned if you're going to let him know how scared you really are.

"I can't talk right now. Sorry, just a crazy day and I gotta get home." You try to sound upbeat, hoping that the situation won't escalate. You side-step to walk about him and he moves with you.

"I just wanna talk." He moves closer with a look in his eyes that lets you know his intentions are far from a simple chat.

"Mark, seriously, I don't have time for this…I have people waiting for me inside. I have to go." It's the best you can come up with.

"Um, I'm not so sure about that." He steps closer to you and you're hyper aware that he's probably twice your size. "I was just up there, no one came to the door. So I think that you might be lying to me." He shakes his head like he's truly disappointed in you.

 _This guy is actually fucking insane_.

"I think you better take a moment and step back." You suggest hesitantly. He's so close now that he's forcing you step backward in unison with his advance.

"I think you better stop treating me like you're better than I am. You don't have to be such a cunt all the time" He smiles like he's proud of his highly offensive tirade.

"There is no reason for you to talk to-" you stop as your back bumps a hard surface and you realize that he's boxed you in between himself and a SUV.

"I don't need a reason!" He growls. "It's just you and me this time."

His fist connects with your face fast and hard.

At first it doesn't register. You've never been hit before - well once by a softball in fifth grade but that doesn't count. You have a vague idea of why cartoon characters see stars when they're punched. Your whole world seems to spin into slow motion, and you can taste blood in your mouth, feel it running down from your nose.

This crazy fucking lunatic just actually hit you.

Your slow motion world speeds up again. You blink a couple times and Mark is right there, up against your body. He presses himself into you, you push back but he doesn't budge.

Mark has one hand covering your mouth, smearing blood all over your face.

"Please, don't" you mumble as you feel his other hand groping over your hips and then between your legs and -

There's Sam.

He just saunters around the side of the SUV with an easy look on his face. He's actually getting ready to call you to let you know he's earlier than expected. He's been looking forward to surprising you all day.

Your eyes go wide when you see him. He stops cold as it registers what he's stumbled upon.

Mark doesn't even know he's there when Sam pulls him off of you. Sam looks wildly from you to Mark.

Mark looks stunned.

Sam punches him so hard in the jaw that you hear the bone make a crunching noise and then Mark is on the ground, unconscious. Sam moves without thinking, as if he's done this a few times before.

Sam looks from Mark to you, then back again "Fuck, what the…fuck."

You can't see yourself, but Sam has an eye full and you look like you've had living daylights beaten out of you.

Sam takes a very real moment to contemplate killing Mark. He could do it, right now, right here and have absolutely no regrets, but you're his number one priority. Right now you're covered in blood and shaking and looking at him like a feral cat that's been corned.

"Sam," is all you get out before he's got his arm around you. He lifts you up, just like he would a toddler, with two hands under your arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. You hold on for dear life.

"Ssshhh." Sam sighs, he's trying to calm you down…but he sounds scared too. He places a hand over the back of your head. "It's ok. You're ok."

He's walking now, takes you inside sets you on the kitchen counter, stepping back to inspect your face. He gets a good look at you _. Shit, you must books bad_ because he looks like he's going to cry.

"Jesus, is it that bad." Your voice and body are both shaking.

"It's not bad," He's lying "I think he broke your nose though."

That seems accurate from the throbbing pain that's pulsing in tune with your heartbeat.

Sam gets you a washcloth full of ice, insists you hold it over your face as he calls the police.

Within ten minutes your apartment is full of cops and paramedics. Sam sits next to you on the couch while you explain what happened, explain that Mark has been an ongoing problem. Sam rubs your back when you cry into his chest.

They arrest Mark.

Later, in the emergency room, Sam holds your hand as the doctor sets your nose with a sickening crack. Sam winces like he can feel it too.

When it's all said and done you tell him you don't want to go back to your place. You can't be there right now, so you go to motel and struggle to fall asleep.

The next morning you're up before Sam, inspecting your face in the bathroom mirror. Both eyes swelling and a headache from hell.

By the time Sam wakes up you're perched on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Hey" He mumbles, looking over your face with concern. He's careful to brush his thumb lightly over your jaw.

"You have to teach me Sam," you say in a clear, determined voice. You've been thinking about this all night. "You have to show me how to defend myself."

"I will, I can do that. Baby, you should rest-"

"No," you push his hand away and stand up, hands on your hips. "I have to do this. Right now. First lesson."

Sam studies you for a moment, then nods and offers a small grin. He knows this is what you need. Control. "You got it."


End file.
